It was a warm, a bit cloudy London evening. You and Lucas were lying on his bed, cuddling and watching some cooking show on the telly.

Lucas was hugging you with his both arms and legs, the head on your chest, like a koala, his long soft hair a bit tousled, and his breathing steady as he was a bit sleepy.

"He seems to do the roux thing wrong, does he?"

Lucas raised his brown eyes on you, asking a bit.